Of Heartaches and Handshakes
by cherryredxx
Summary: A collection of one-shots, drabbles, and vignettes. DG.
1. Make Me Feel

**A/N:** This is a collection of one-shots, drabbles, vignettes, etc. that all revolve around Draco and Ginny. There is no on-going story; each can stand alone, but none are long enough to be on their own. Please, do not tell me that they don't make sense when read in order. I am aware, and it is intentional!

All of these were written in response to the "Your Favorite Couple Scenarios" challenge on the Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges Forum.

This particular story is also my response to the 3AM challenge on the same forum.

* * *

He watched as she slept, a ghost of a smile quirked on his lips. It had always amazed him that she could evoke such emotions in him, a man who had always prided himself on his ability to stay neutral and expressionless. In her presence, he could often not help but to allow her to penetrate his cold persona. It was hard to not show his happiness and anger; often they were shown at once. She hit him at his center, making him feel things he never thought possible.

She shifted in her sleep – her red hair fanned over her pillow and a peaceful appearance crossed over her face. He could tell she was dreaming about him; she subconsciously snuggled against him more closely, pressing her slender body more tightly against his lithe form. He couldn't help but smile at her ever present desire to be close to him.

Unable to resist her, though knowing how lightly she slept, he gently ran a soft hand down her freckled cheek.

She woke almost instantly, and a yawn escaped her lips as her eyes fluttered open. "What time is it?" she asked tiredly.

"It's late." He struggled to keep his voice even, despite the overwhelming desire he had to do otherwise. "You should go back to sleep, Gin."

"Don't want to," she responded, sitting up to look at him properly. "Why are you up, Draco?"

He shrugged. "Couldn't sleep."

She smiled slyly, moving closer to him and gently nibbling on his earlobe. "I could tire you out, if you want," she said, running her hands over his chest suggestively. At his lack of reaction to her ministrations, she stiffened and moved away from him slightly. "What's wrong?"

"I can't stay with you," he answered softly, his words almost inaudible. He wouldn't lift his eyes to match hers. "I don't love you, Ginny."

Ginny glanced to the nightstand on her left, eyeing the clock with annoyance. "Bloody hell, Draco. Do you really think that three in the morning is the appropriate time to discuss this?"

"No, I don't," he said pointedly. "As I recall, I told you to go back to sleep."

"So you did. Fine. We can discuss this during daylight hours then." She turned on her side, purposefully dragging the duvet away from Draco in the process.

"Could you be less mature?"

"Probably not."

Draco rolled his eyes at her childishness. Perhaps he had gone about ending their relationship improperly, but there was no reason for her to act like a brat. In response, he pulled at the duvet and threw it off the bed completely. "I can be equally as annoying as you, you know."

Ginny sat up again. "You're a right git, aren't you? First, you wake me up to tell me to go back to sleep. Then, when I won't go back to sleep, you decide you're going to break up with me. And now, when I actually do want to go to sleep, you steal the sodding covers!" She punched him in the arm. "Fine, leave me. Good bloody riddance to you and your mood swings. God, if I didn't know better, I'd say you were the woman in this blasted relationship. Goodnight, arsehole!" She returned to lying down on her side, coverless.

The blond turned, facing the other direction, also coverless.

Several minutes passed between them. Neither of them fell asleep, neither of them spoke. However, at the end of the long stretch of silence, each of them burst into peals of laughter of the side-splitting variety. The absurdity of the way that they had both acted rang out, loud and clear. Both of them felt rather stupid.

The redhead turned to face Draco, scooting closer to him and then proceeding to nuzzle her head in the crook of his neck. "So, what's really bothering you?" she asked sympathetically, rubbing his arm soothingly.

"I don't know," he responded truthfully, placing a protective arm around her middle. "I just hate how vulnerable you make me, Gin. It's emasculating, is what it is."

She looked up at him, her eyes tender and honest. "If you think I'm going to leave you, then I have been doing something very wrong." She smiled. "Remember that I love you. Always."

He couldn't help but allow himself to smile as she drifted back to sleep. This wasn't an unusual occurrence. They always fought, and the moral of the story was always the same. He loved her so much that it scared him, so much that it hurt. But at the same time, the thought of losing her was like losing a limb. He couldn't bear it.

After he was certain that she had fallen back to sleep completely, he whispered, "I love you, too." One day, he would tell her when she was awake.


	2. Words Unsaid, Tears Unshed

This was it. A commencement; the beginning of her journey. As a little girl, she had imagined the day over and over, planned out every detail, every intricacy. It was to be her perfect day and her dream come true.

She stared at her reflection for several minutes, ensuring that she looked exactly as she was supposed to. Her strapless dress was as white as the freshly fallen snow. The skirt was full, puffed up by what seemed like infinitely many layers of tulle, while the bodice, studded with shimmering sequins, perfectly formed to the shape of her torso. Her veil covered her subtly made up face and hid her flowing curls of red hair. It was everything she had ever dreamt her wedding dress should be and more.

Something wasn't right, though. There was a silly, niggling thought at the back of her mind that she couldn't seem to shake off. But what could it have been? The church was magnificent and pretty as a picture. Her brothers had all given their blessing, entering the Sanctuary to visit her one at a time, clinging desperately to their final moments of pretending that she was still just a little girl, and her parents had expressed to her how proud and happy they were that she had found such a perfect man to spend her life with.

But it didn't help. She still felt hollow and uneasy, as if she had forgot something.

"Hello, gorgeous."

Still in front of the mirror, she glanced up to eye the intruder's image, though it wasn't actually necessary. She knew that voice, that slow and calculating drawl, whose owner had introduced her to the most bittersweet of moments that she had ever known. Pleasure and peace met sorrow and hatred. That was what that voice had brought her, and she suspected this time would be no different.

In the time it had taken her to fully come to terms with the fact that he had barged in on her quiet recollection, he had made his way to her side of the room. He stood behind her, looking over her shoulder at their combined reflection. Every muscle in her body tensed in anticipation of what would happen next. Though she didn't know his exact intentions, it could lead to nothing but doubts and tears and pain.

"You're beautiful, Ginny," he said, so softly that she had barely heard. His voice wasn't cold and his tone wasn't snide. It was a rare occurrence, but his words held no trace of malice whatsoever. It was, perhaps, one of the only sincere compliments that he had ever given.

But graciously accepting the compliment wasn't an option. She had to stay strong and keep out of the trap that he was setting for her. He was her weakness, and he was aware of it. It frustrated her that it only took five simple words from him to shake her up, to stir up every emotion in her that had lain dormant in the years since they had last spoken.

She straightened her spine and allowed her face to turn cold. "You shouldn't be here," she said. It took all of her strength, but she did not allow her eyes to wander to his. She kept her gaze firmly on her own reflection, refusing to allow him to get under her skin any deeper, to see past her weak exterior and into her heart.

"I'm not welcome." It was a statement rather than a question. No one in her family wanted him there. They had never wanted him around, even when she had insisted upon it. "But I had to see you."

Ginny closed her eyes softly, attempting to neutralize the sting of tears that she felt at the back of her eyes and trying to ignore the pang in her chest. After calming herself slightly, she turned to face him, taking in the sight of him for the first time in years. He hadn't changed in the slightest, not his translucent complexion, not his painfully beautiful face, not his piercing grey eyes that looked through her, not at her.

Shakily, she asked, "What do you want from me, Draco?"

He stared at her for several long moments, his expressionless façade never revealing the slightest hint of emotion that she knew he had to be feeling. His eyes glistened with unshed tears that he would never release in front of her. Malfoys don't wear their hearts on their sleeves, and they certainly don't cry. Especially not this one, not the one who holds his dignity above all else. Crying was the epitome of ignominy.

Draco swallowed hard. "Don't do it."

Suddenly she found that he was too much to look at. She turned away immediately, no longer wanting to fall before the coldness of his scrutiny. "Get away from me."

He traced her steps and was within mere inches of her. With a firm grip on her bare, bony shoulders, he turned her towards him, placing a finger beneath her chin to force her to look at him. "Don't marry him, Ginny. Don't."

She fought to hold back her tears, not wanting to cry on her wedding day or ruin her dress by allowing the black of her mascara to mar its perfect white. She didn't know how she was supposed to react to him. More than anything, she was irritated that he would put such an impossible load on her, to demand something so ridiculous of her when he knew how much he had always meant to her. He never asked, only demanded and expected.

The lace of her veil had been pushed back; her face was now revealed to him, and her only chance at keeping her uncertainty a secret had been taken. He had always been able to read her like a book.

"Ginny, I –"

His words were interrupted by her lips pressing into his, bruising his lips with her pent up passion and frustration mixed into one. It had been too long, far too long, and his proximity to her was overwhelming. She couldn't hold it in any longer, couldn't help but give in at last. Everything that had been left unsaid would be conveyed through the kiss. It would be their last.

She pulled her lips away, feeling her heart ache more as she distanced their lips further. It was too late to turn back, too late to repair the damage that had long since been done.

"This is it," she whispered, gently brushing his cheek with her fingertips. "This is the end."


	3. Respect Me

The restaurant could be described as nothing less than perfect and classy. Candles were dimly lit and soft, soothing music played in the background, and each table was adorned with a single red rose, charmed to never wither or fade. There were only five tables in total, making it an ideal location for an intimate meal to be shared. If circumstances were different, Ginny may have actually been able to appreciate and enjoy the posh setting.

She took a sip from her glass of champagne, laughing superficially at the dull conversation. With a sideways glance, she took in the sight of her husband, who was on his fourth glass of Firewhisky for the evening. Though she was quite irritated with him, she realized how unprofessional it would be to scold him during a business dinner and, instead, kept her opinions to herself. It had been a surprise for her, very early in their marriage, how poorly Draco was able to handle his alcohol intake. Not only did it take very little for him to become intoxicated, but he had absolutely no self-control, especially when considering how meticulous his behavior was normally.

The new owner of the Harpies, Clive Carrington, had set up a private meeting to speak with Ginny and had invited her to bring her husband along with her. Initially, she had been relieved, as she felt that Carrington was a bit on the strange side and also fairly creeperish, but as she looked back on the situation, she wondered if she had made a mistake in bringing him.

Like Ginny, Draco wasn't Carrington's biggest fan. Unlike Ginny, he had no problem expressing his opinions, regardless of whether or not his mouth would affect her Quidditch playing. His state of intoxication only allowed his tongue to loosen.

"So, Mr. Malfoy," Clive began, cutting his meat with what Ginny deemed to be unnecessary force, his knife scraping against his plate as a result, "I hear you were quite the Quidditch player in your day." He chomped on his food, not understanding the concepts of keeping his mouth closed or using a napkin. "Of course, nothing compared to our little Ginny!"

Draco lifted an eyebrow, clearly disgusted with the manners being displayed by the older man. "Of course," he replied through gritted teeth. "And while I admit that my lovely wife is quite talented, I can't help but notice that you've put her on quite the pedestal."

Clive gave a snort, still chomping. "Well, she's the best girl on my team, isn't she?"

"Quite," Draco agreed, "but she is still nowhere near the perfect player that you seem to think she is." He leaned forward, folding his hands on the table. "While she is an excellent flyer, many of her maneuvers have completely unpolished technique. Her catching is not great, seeing as though she misses nearly half, and if you don't force her to work her arms properly, she is going to ruin her throwing ability. Unable to catch and throw with little technique is hardly what I'd call 'the best.'"

Ginny's cheeks reddened, but she remained quiet, realizing that Draco's intent was more to irritate her boss rather than to embarrass her.

Clive, however, did not remain quiet. "Not very supportive of your wife, are you? Perhaps she should consider investing in a new husband – one who recognizes her talents and abilities without shooting her down."

"I don't suppose you're referring to yourself, are you, Carrington?" Draco laughed out loud. "Sir, with all due respect, and granted there is very little, I do recognize her _talents_ in other areas, in addition to her athletic ability. Rest assured; she is quite _satisfied_ with our marriage." He smirked, making his sexual innuendos stand out clearly.

The redhead was now seething – irritated at the unwarranted display of testosterone and the fact that both men were speaking as though she was not there. She threw her napkin on the table and stood, causing all of the other patrons in the restaurant to look in her direction. "Mr. Carrington, it has been a thin slice of heaven," she said sarcastically, "but I am afraid that my husband and I will need to be going now."

* * *

"How damned immature can you be, Draco?" Ginny shouted, using all the strength she could muster to control her urge to slap the blond. "You know how important my career is to me. Why would you act like that? Why?"

"Because that man is a bloody plonker, that's why."

She let out a scream that, when coupled with the large quantity of alcohol that he had consumed, gave Draco an instant headache. She picked up a large book, which was the most nearby throw-able item, and chucked it at him, hitting him squarely in the shoulder.

"Calm the hell down, you lunatic!" he shouted in response.

"You want me to calm down?" Ginny asked, her voice suddenly much more, well, calm. "You want me to relax and talk with you rationally, is that it?" She threw everything that she could find at him – more books, pillows, quills, clothes, and a pair of shoes with a spike heel. "I'm not going to calm down, you stupid bloody git!" She was screaming again.

After being hit by several items and narrowly missing the rest, he took several steps in her direction. With caution, he put his hands on her upper arms, pinning them to her sides so that she'd be forced to relax. "Ginny, you're acting crazy."

The redhead sighed deeply. With much more composure, she said, "You're right. Let me go."

Draco lifted an eyebrow. "You promise not to hit me, or attack me, or curse me?"

She nodded. "I promise."

Hesitantly, Draco released his grip on her.

Within a second, Ginny grabbed her wand and aimed it at her husband's chest. "_Sobrietus!_"

"You bloody harpy!" He put his fingers to his temples, massaging them gently as he began feeling the instant migraine that accompanied sobriety.

Feeling no sympathy, Ginny shoved Draco against the nearest wall. She put her wand at the base of his throat. "Now you listen to me, you arse. My career is very important to me; Quidditch has been my life since I was a child. I have worked very hard to get where I am, and I will not have you ruining this for me because you don't like the owner of the team."

Draco sneered. "He said you need a new husband, Gin. You going to go after him?"

"I'd never touch that disgusting piece of filth, but I am beginning to wonder if he was right about needing to find someone who will support me."

"You don't want to be with me anymore?" he asked, his voice surprisingly even.

She lowered her wand and turned away, very uncomfortable with the conversation at hand. "I want you to respect me," she said, so quietly that he had to strain to hear her.

Too prideful to allow her statement to be the end of his argument, Draco gripped her shoulders and spun her back to face him. "Well, I want my wife to stop associating with that disgusting pig. Switch teams, Gin! If you're as bloody good as Carrington insists that you are, it shouldn't be too much of a stretch for another team to pick up your contract."

All of a sudden, there was a light in her eyes. "Oh!" she exclaimed, shrugging off his hands. "And you basically go and say that I'm not even any good! How could you, Draco? How could you do that to me?"

"Because you're not perfect, Gin! Everything I said is true. I've been watching you play for years; you are always flying so close to out of bounds, your arm strength is weakening, yet you are throwing harder than ever, and you have never been good at catching the Quaffle. I said nothing untrue, and you'd do well to listen to someone who actually has an interest in keeping you healthy!"

"Oh, _right!_ Healthy. You want me to be healthy because what good would I be shagging you otherwise, right? I mean, after all that bloody bragging about our 'satisfying marriage…'"

"Give it a rest, will you? I was just trying to piss him off."

"Well you didn't! You pissed _me_ off!"

"There's a shocker. I pissed you off." He rolled his eyes. "You know, lately, Ginny, I wonder if you even want me around at all. All we do is argue about your career and the things I say to you. Do you even like me? Honestly?"

"Don't be stupid."

"I don't think I am! I think there is something wrong here, something you're not telling me!"

"No, there is nothing wrong, Draco. I am just tired of you and your attitude towards me playing Quidditch, and the way you talk about me like I'm not sitting right in front of you, and the way that you openly talk about our sex life when you know bloody well it makes me feel uncomfortable, and the way that you're always degrading me in front of people who are important to me and my career! If you'd just respect me, we wouldn't fight all the time!"

Draco looked at his wife for a long moment, allowing her to continue reeling. "You think I don't respect you, Gin?" he asked somewhat meekly. He realized that this was something she'd said already, but it had just begun to sink in at that moment. With slow steps, he approached her. "Gin, I have nothing _but_ respect for you. You've made something of yourself and you work hard, even though you don't have to. I adore everything about you, who you are. If you don't see that, then maybe we shouldn't be together after all."

She looked at Draco for a long time, tears stinging at the back of her eyes as she took in what had just been said. Maybe there was some truth to what Carrington had said, what Draco had just said. Maybe they just weren't so perfect after all. Ginny ran from the room before she started crying, desperately needing space from her husband.

He put his head in his hands as soon as he heard the crack that signaled her Apparation. He didn't know where she'd gone or when she'd come back. All he could do was hope that, eventually, she would.


	4. Bittersweet

He held onto her hand for dear life, almost as though he was attempting to transfer some of his life into her so that she could hold on a little longer. One more day, another hour, a few more minutes, a fraction of a second. He'd take anything. His tears threatened to flow freely despite his attempts to stay strong for a little while longer. The blond man used to be so cold, so unforgiving and so expressionless at one point in his life, but the redhead lying in the bed beside him had changed all of that. Because of her, he had learned how to feel, how to live. He dedicated his life to her. She had saved him from himself, and he was eternally grateful.

Her sharp intake of breath pulled him from his reverie. There wasn't much time left for her – he knew it, and so did she. They were both thankful for the sympathy that they had received from the healers. Despite her ailing health, they had allowed him to take her home, to live out her last breaths in a place that made her feel safe and comfortable. Their home.

He felt her shiver. "Do you need another quilt, love?"

She smiled weakly and rubbed her other hand over his left forearm, her fingertips carelessly grazing over the faded scar that had once been the Dark Mark. "No, no," she said, her voice still soothing, still motherly, regardless of her weakened state. "Please just talk to me. I want to hear your voice."

There was a huge lump in his throat. What should he say? What was worthy of her last few moments of life? He wasn't even completely sure that he deserved to be holding her hand or that he was worthy of being the owner of the last voice she'd ever hear. She was so much better than him. She always had been.

"Draco?" she croaked.

He blinked away the tears that were threatening to pour. The tears he would save for later, when she couldn't see him lose control and fall apart like he so desperately needed to. He needed to let go of everything that had been building inside of him, to get his sweet release.

But now was not the time. "I'm here, Gin," he replied, swallowing down the lump in his throat. There would be a time for him to let go, but in that moment he needed to be strong for her.

A weak smile crossed her lips. "Do you remember the first time we kissed?"

Draco choked on a laugh. "I do," he said, rubbing a thumb over her hand. "I remember it like it was yesterday."

He closed his eyes, willing the images of the day to return to his mind as though he were viewing them in a pensieve. He continued to squeeze her hand, hoping that the feeling of his hand would be enough for her to hold on a little longer so that they could live out the memory together. He told her the story, knowing that by the end of it, she could be gone.

_I can still remember the way you looked that night, the way my heart stopped when I saw you, even though I tried to pretend that you hadn't sparked my interest in the least. You wore a red cocktail dress and a pair of white heals that made your legs look impossibly long. Your hair had been pinned up in a sea of red curls. You were a vision, Gin, and all I could think about were your lips and how badly I wanted to kiss you._

_I waited until you had been left alone. Until that point, you had always had one brother or another on your arm, protecting you from all of the men at the party who undoubtedly had their eyes on you. All I wanted was a minute so that I could tell you that you were an angel and that the way you looked would ruin me for other women forever. No one could ever match your beauty. When Bill had finally walked away from you, I approached you._

_You nearly choked on your champagne as you saw me coming closer. I offered you my hand. "Dance with me?" I asked._

_You stared at me as though I had grown a few extra heads, but then you broke into a smile. You took my hand, and I whirled you around, pulling you into me and dipping you back in my arms. I remember the surprised look on your face, and then the way you laughed out loud. You realized how strong my hold on you was. I think it was in that moment that you knew I'd never let anything hurt you._

_I helped you stand up straight. You had opened your mouth to say something, but before you had the chance, a fist connected with my jaw._

"_What in the bloody hell are you doing with my sister, you slimy git?"_

"_Ronald!" you cried. You pushed your brother so hard that he fell to the ground. "What are you doing? We were going to dance!"_

"_You and the ferret?" he asked incredulously._

_You grabbed my arm, pulling yourself close to me. "Yes! Now if you'll excuse me, I have to attend to his bleeding nose before it ruins my dress."_

_We were seated in the garden outside the ballroom. You set my broken nose and wiped the blood off my face with a dinner napkin that you had stolen from one of the tables. "I'm sorry about that," you said. I knew you meant it, but I could still see the smile on your lips, and I could still hear the amusement in your voice. "My brother can be such an arse sometimes."_

_I smirked slightly at the comment. "Sometimes, eh?"_

_You gave me a cheeky grin. "Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"_

_"I can think of something," I whispered as I tilted your chin up towards my face._

_Our lips inched closer and closer. I could feel your breath against my lips just before you pressed yours into mine. My heart pounded in anticipation of what was going to happen. I never wanted to kiss anyone as badly as I had wanted to kiss you in that moment. You were a mystery to me, an enigma. All I wanted was to be close to you and never let you go. Finally, you touched your lips to mine. It felt so nice to have you close to me… _

_Until your nose pushed into mine, painfully reminding me of my recently broken nose. "Sodding hell, you stupid awful - ow!"_

_You laughed at me, giggled incessantly as I screamed profanities. Through the blistering pain I was feeling, I heard your laugh. I fell in love with it, and I knew I had to hear it, to be the cause of it, for the rest of my life._

Draco squeezed her hand, no longer feeling the pressure of the returned gesture from Ginny. Hesitantly, he looked at her. Her eyes were closed lightly as she lay perfectly still in her bed. The gentle rise and fall of her chest had stopped, and he knew that she was gone forever. His angel had gone to heaven.

His will to be strong had gone. He rested his head against her chest, finally allowing the bittersweet release of his tears. All he had now were his memories. At the very least, he took comfort in knowing that the last thing she did was smile at the reminiscence of the night he had fallen in love with her, the night that she had given him a chance. At least he had that.


	5. Five Years and an Insufferable Git

If there was one thing that Ginny could always depend on, it was that Draco always fell asleep after they were intimate. He would promise to stay awake so that they could talk and cuddle and kiss, but it never failed. Within minutes, he would be out like a light. It irritated her at first, but she got over it quickly. If she wanted the man, she'd have to take all of him, and she was certainly willing to.

No one had ever thought that the two of them would last five minutes in a serious relationship, let alone the five years that they had been together. During those five years, they fought more than any couple she'd ever been exposed to, but then they made up. In a way, she kind of enjoyed the fighting because then they got to have their make-up sex. She had a sneaking suspicion that Draco agreed with her on that point. It was one of the few things that they actually agreed on.

He was an ethereal beauty when he was asleep. No matter how hard and obnoxious his scowl was any other time of the day, Draco always looked like an angel when he slept. It was almost painful for Ginny to look at him, but at the same time she couldn't take her eyes off him. It was a paradox that made her crazy, but she couldn't help it. His well-defined features were flawless, and his perfect skin almost glowed in the dim light. He was perfect, until he opened his mouth.

She threaded her fingers through his baby-fine hair. She would have been kidding herself if she said that Draco was a perfect boyfriend. He pouted like a child when he didn't get his way, he insulted her friends and family on a regular basis, and he had no idea how to express any kind of emotion. He always hid behind his wit and his snarkiness to make himself feel important, but when it came down to it, Ginny knew that Draco would defend her to the death. He would protect her and take care of her, no matter how cold and hard he tried to appear, and she could feel it in the way they made love, in the way he looked at her, and the way he touched her.

But lately she had been wondering where they would go from there. Draco never liked to talk about the future, about anything, really, besides how great he is, and so Ginny was always left in a permanent state of contemplation, of wondering where she really stood with him. He had to like her, at least a little bit, to have stayed in a relationship with her for so long, but she was becoming antsy. She was ready to take the next step with him. She wanted to move beyond living in sin and marry him, but was that what he was looking for?

Not knowing was tearing her apart, and the nervous emotions were making her fidget. Her fidgeting made Draco stir.

"I'm awake," he said groggily, stretching his arms over his head. "See, told you I wouldn't fall asleep this time."

Ginny rolled her eyes. Of course he had fallen asleep, just like always, but she would pretend that he was right. Her life would be far less stressful if she just allowed Draco to think he was right.

Draco propped himself up on his elbow. "What's wrong, Ginny?" he asked. "And don't lie. I can always tell because your cheeks get pink."

She huffed playfully. "I just, well, I wanted to know where you think this, I mean, our _relationship_ is going." His blank expression made her nervous. "Just forget it. I'm just tired and I don't know what I'm saying."

"You're rambling." He appeared to be rather amused at her display. "So you, what, want to know when we're going to get married, have enough children to form our own Quidditch team, and move into a house with a white picket fence?"

The redhead narrowed her eyes.

"Don't be angry with me because I can tell what you're thinking. It's hardly my fault that you're so bloody transparent."

"I am not!" She took a deep breath. "Draco, can't you be serious for once?"

"I'm always serious, Gin. Just the other day you chastised me because you said that I never smile."

"Well, you don't! But every word out of your mouth is sarcastic and rude. You never give me compliments. We've been together for five years and you have never once told me that you think I'm pretty."

"Is that what you want? For me to drown you in compliments?"

"_No_, but saying something nice every few years might make me feel better!"

"Fine, you're pretty."

"Draco!"

"What? Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Well, yes, but I don't want you to just say it because I tell you to. You're supposed to mean it!"

"I _do_ mean it! But since you did tell me to say it, now any time I ever say it you're going to assume that I only said it because you said I should say it!"

"Exactly!"

"You are the most infuriating pain in the –"

"Finish that sentence and I will break you."

He scowled, but said nothing.

"You sneaky little bastard! You are just trying to distract me so that you don't have to talk about whether or not you're ever going to be a man and ask me to marry you! You're just trying to get around it because, no matter how bloody old you are, you are a still a sad, whiny, pathetic little boy who cries whenever he doesn't get his way." She poked him hard in the chest. "Well, hear this, Malfoy. I will not be a part of that. I will not allow you to manipulate me with your sneaky little Slytherin wiles until I fall into your arms. Ginny Weasley will not be taken for a fool, and you will not –"

She never got to finish her sentence. Draco's lips crashed into hers so hard that it startled her. She was initially unable to respond, but then she came to her senses. No matter what, Draco always knew how to sweep her off her feet and force all coherent thoughts from her mind. His fingertips gently grazing over her bare back was enough for her to lose control, to fall apart in his arms. She melted into him, and for the duration of their kiss, it was impossible to tell where he ended and she began.

He pulled back slowly, watching amusedly as her fogged over eyes blinked until she could see properly again. "Are you still angry with me?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I suppose not, but that doesn't mean that we shouldn't talk about our future together. At least for me, Draco, this isn't some fling."

"Will you stop that already? You're bloody ruining my surprise."

"Your what now?"

Draco let out an exasperated sigh. "Bloody hell. This was supposed to wait until Christmas so that your family could be there. I had to ask your sodding father for permission, and he finally said he gave me his blessing."

She lifted an eyebrow. "Huh?"

The blond reached behind him to a drawer on the nightstand, pulling out a small black box along the way. "I was going to propose on Christmas Eve, you twit."

Ginny's mouth opened in awe as she took in the sight of the beautiful diamond ring inside the box. It was more beautiful than she could have ever imagined, and she loved him even more for wanting to propose to her in front of her family. He _had_ listened to her.

But then it occurred to her. She slapped the side of his head. "You idiot! You hid my engagement ring in the side table drawer? Do you know how easily I could have found it, and then -"

Draco covered his head with the pillow.

* * *

**A/N:** Yes, I know the ending of this one is silly and abrupt, but it was intentional and meant to show that Ginny is equally as insufferable as Draco in a relationship. Please review! This is the most DG banter I have ever used in a story, so I would love opinions!


	6. Blades of Grass

The open sky was so clear that it barely looked blue and the grass was so long that it almost touched her knees. Ginny flinched at this, unknowing what could be hidden in the tall blades, but he urged her to continue, to keep walking and to persevere until they reached the hill's peak.

They were almost there; she could see the top from where they were standing. With a sigh, she continued to walk. "How much bloody further?" she asked impatiently, even though she knew it would only take them a few more minutes to reach their destination.

Draco put his hands on her shoulders, stopping her and directing her body to look towards their goal. "Not much," he whispered. "See it?"

The wind blew a heavy gust that knocked her long, red hair back to whip at his face and she crossed her arms over her chest, protecting herself from the chilly autumn air. Even though she had given him a hard time about coming out to the middle of nowhere in the cold to have a picnic, Ginny had to admit that she loved being able to spend this time with him. Their circumstances were difficult; neither of their families wanted them to be together, and no matter where they went, _someone_ was always around to criticize their relationship or to judge them.

Finally, they had reached the top of the hill. Draco had already set up their picnic on a white and red checkered blanket with a brown knitted picnic basket. Once they settled in, he set out their food on the blanket. Ginny couldn't help but notice that he had included all of _his_ favorites – everything he brought was chocolate and filled with sugar. Unable to resist, she started to laugh at his spread. "Oh, Draco, you didn't bring any real food!"

He looked up at her and pouted. "Well, I couldn't very well ask you what to bring on a picnic without ruining the surprise, could I? And anyway, there's one more item available that's not on the menu."

The redhead bit her lip as he approached her on all fours, setting herself back against the cool ground. She wrapped her arms around his back as he leaned in for a kiss, brushing his lips against hers so lightly that she could barely feel them. His hands remained firmly planted on the ground, one arm on either side of her, trapping her in place.

Another kiss, light enough that his lips felt like feathers, sent a chill up her spine. He always knew how to get to her, how to build up the moment and to make her turn to jelly in his arms. There was just something about him that made her weak, that she just couldn't resist, no matter how hard she tried. She stopped trying, though. This man was everything that she wanted and more, and nothing her family or his family said would stop them from being together. She pulled him closer to her body, allowing him to be pushed from balance. Their kisses became more fevered, more desperate. There was so much that she wanted to do with him, so much that she wanted to experience, and she knew that she wouldn't be able to hold back much longer.

Draco lifted his face from hers, just enough so that he could get a clear view of her. He studied her face, analyzing it and committing it to memory. "Aren't you glad we came here?" he whispered.

"Definitely," she replied. "We'll come again, right? With _real_ food next time?"

He smirked as he traced his fingers down her cheek and onto her lips. "If it means you and I are together, we can come here every day."


	7. Strong Enough

Seeing her husband weak and in pain was awful. Usually he was the strong one, even if he didn't mean to be. He was always there, offering a shoulder to cry on, a warm embrace, and a cup of hot cocoa to soothe the pain. But not this time. This time, he was the one who was in need. This time, he was the one who was falling to pieces.

She saw him sitting on the bed, bent forward with his forehead pressed into the palms of his hands. He looked fragile and broken, and she wanted so badly to sympathize, but she couldn't understand what he was going through. Her mother was still alive and healthy. Even though she wanted to be able to be there for him, she just didn't know what to say that would help to alleviate any of his pain.

A chill blew through the room as she entered. The window was open, and Draco was sitting in front of it, listening to the sounds of the city as he tried to pretend that he was okay. Ginny sat beside him and handed him a mug of cocoa. She said, "I brought this for you. I thought it might keep you warm."

He looked at her and smiled weakly. "Thanks, Gin," he replied as he took a sip of his drink.

Ginny looked at the wall, searching for something to say or do that would make him feel better, but once again, she came up empty. There were no fancy words, no grand gestures that would bring his mother back. She looked to the floor. There were no answers there, either. There were just no answers.

She turned to him and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Draco? I just want you to know that I love you."

Draco turned to her. "I know you do," he said softly, "and I don't expect you to make all of my problems disappear."

"But I want to help you," she responded, inching herself closer to him.

He set down his mug on the end table and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into him. He kissed the top of her head. "Just knowing that you're here is all the help that I need."

She sighed deeply. This time, she had brought him cocoa, a warm embrace, and a shoulder to cry on. Somehow, she managed to be strong enough for him this time around.


	8. Become What You Hate

Diagon Alley was buzzing with children and their parents who were finishing up all of their last-minute shopping before it was time to return to Hogwarts. Ginny couldn't help but smile to herself that she no longer had to worry about school; she was finished, and even a celebrity in some ways – a war hero who was going to begin training with the Holyhead Harpies in just a few short weeks.

Her head was humming with the cacophony going on around her, but she had promised that she'd help George in the store since Ron and Hermione had made "special plans" for the evening and he needed time to prepare. She laughed to herself, finding it both irritating and amusing that Ron still thought her to be a naïve child. "Special plans" was, of course, Ron's euphemistic way of saying that he and his girlfriend were going to shag like bunnies and he was going to spend all day in the shower trying to make himself smell good. Typical Ron.

When she had finally reached Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, she was greeted with a most uncomfortable and curious sight. Draco Malfoy was emerging from her brothers' store, a large shopping bag in hand. She stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes locking on him, hoping that he wouldn't see her. But then it occurred to her that _she_ was not the out of place one here. This was a store created and owned by Weasleys, not Malfoys.

She puffed up her chest in an attempt to appear tough and marched over to Draco, hands on her hips. "What are you doing here, Malfoy?" she demanded.

Draco looked at her for a long moment, almost as though he was unsure of whom she was at first, and then he smiled a slow, lazy grin that was reminiscent of a Cheshire cat. "Hello, Weaselette," he replied. "Now, use that big brain of yours and tell me: what does it _look_ like I'm doing here."

Her eyes narrowed at the blond. "Well it looks like you, a Malfoy, are shopping at a store that is owned by Weasleys."

"So I am." He raised an eyebrow. "What's peculiar to me is that it is the goody two shoes Weasley girl who has got a problem with that, and not the big bad Malfoy."

Ginny opened her mouth to respond, but it took a second for her to realize that he was right. The war had been over for a few years, and Draco Malfoy had not been convicted to any crimes or sentenced to Azkaban. He was, by all accounts that mattered, an innocent man, and she had been the judgmental one. In that moment, she had become what she hated.

Knocked back into reality, she lifted her chin and offered her hand to Draco. "I apologize for being so tactless," she said cordially. "You have every right to be here."

After a moment's careful contemplation of the proffered gesture, the blond reached out and took her hand, giving it a firm shake. There was no need for bigotry any longer; they were both bigger than that.


	9. Not Ever

He slammed the bedroom door behind him, glaring at her from across the room as he loosened his tie and began to unbutton his shirt. The way she flinched when she saw him nearing made him even angrier, like he was a stranger to her and would hurt her. He would never hurt her, not really – not _physically_.

His wife was facing the window, reaching behind herself to undo the zipper on the back of her dress, obviously struggling. With a roll of his eyes, he walked to her and assisted her. "For goodness sake, Gin," he said, his voice irritated. "If you need help with this bloody stupid thing, just ask."

She flinched again as the air hit her newly bared skin.

"And stop acting like I'm going to hurt you!" he added, turning away from her to finish his own undressing.

"Well how do I know you won't, Draco?" Ginny asked, her voice a bit meeker than normal, her eyes glistening with tears. "You're acting like a lunatic, you know. I don't know what you're going to do."

Draco turned back to her, his eyes emblazoned with fury. "You're scared of me, Gin?"

"Well – well, no, but –"

"So then you're being ridiculous!"

"No, I'm not!" the redhead shouted, her brown eyes hardening significantly. "Draco, you're being totally unreasonable. I didn't do anything –"

"Too right! You didn't _do_ a damn thing!"

The redhead bit her lip, her face torn. "Draco, they're my brothers," she responded, her voice much quieter. "I don't know what you want me to do. They're my family."

He threw his shoe across the room, which hit the closet door with extreme force. "_I_ am your family, Ginny! I'm your husband!"

"I know that, but –"

"But, _what_, Ginny?" Draco shouted. "I can't – I can't _do_ this anymore! I can't be your second best." He ran his hands through his hair, forcing himself to calm. "You and I made promises to each other, that we would honor each other and devote our lives to each other, but you don't do that. You don't put me before them, not ever!"

"But I do! I defend you all the time to them, but you always Apparate away before I get the chance to!"

The blond threw his hands up. "That's not good enough, Ginny. It's not enough. You need to stop them. You need to tell them to bloody stop."

She bit her lip and cocked her head to the side slightly. "What is it that you want from me, Draco?" she asked, her voice almost pleading. "Tell me what I can do to prove that I am devoted to you."

Draco looked at his wife for a long moment. "Either – either you stop them from talking to me that way, or – or you and I are finished."

He left the room before she could respond, knowing that he was asking for the impossible. Ginny would never choose anyone over her family, not even her husband. Not ever.


	10. Barely Breathing

**WARNING:** This story contains references to drug use and withdrawal. If you find any of this disturbing, or if you fear that these references may trigger something unpleasant for you, do NOT read this chapter. You have been warned.

* * *

She sat on the floor of the bathroom, her body shaking and trembling. Her skin was as cold as ice, and yet, despite this, she broken out into a cold sweat. Her red hair was matted to her pallid, hollow face.

It had taken time for him to realize what was happening to his wife. He felt guilty. Perhaps he had chosen to pretend that he could not see what she had turned into, or maybe he dismissed the signs because he wanted to refuse any responsibility for it; he would have been able to pretend he had been a good husband. But those signs had become blatant now. There was no denying it, and he could not pretend any longer that she had just changed without reason.

Her weight loss, the brittleness of her hair, the way she was always cold, the way she would never allow him to be close to her. It all made sense, as soon as he allowed his eyes to open. As soon as he looked at her and realize what she had become.

The sight of his wife in a state of such extreme fragility and helplessness shattered his heart as though it were nothing more than a solid block of ice. He fell to his knees in front of her, gathering her up in his arms and pulling her fiercely against his chest.

And he cried.

She was so lifeless, so broken, so empty on the inside. He fell to pieces, holding her and rocking her steadily in his arms. Even if only partly, it was still his fault, if only because he had been so blind to what had been in front of his face. It was his fault she had become a shell of a person. His tears poured from his eyes so forcefully that he wasn't certain he'd ever be able to stop.

"Oh, Ginny," he managed to say, his words haggard as he choked back his sobs. "I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry."

She said nothing. Her body would not stop convulsing, would not stop shivering. Her entire semblance of self had dissipated into nothing. She wasn't Ginny Weasley anymore, nor was she Ginny Malfoy. She was nothing more than a body, barely alive and barely breathing.

Hollow and lifeless, shivering and cold, she used every ounce of strength she had to return the embrace. She could not squeeze him, could not hold him the way that he was holding her, but at least he knew she had understood, and she had forgiven him for letting her drown.


	11. Administration

"What are you doing?"

Ginny looked up from her pile of paperwork as Draco entered her office. Her eyebrows raised ever-so-slightly as she caught a glimpse of the fuming blond, who was holding several pieces of parchment in his hands. She realized immediately what those documents were, and she winced slightly, knowing that this would not be a pleasant conversation.

"Weasley?" Draco questioned further. "Why am I holding your resignation?"

"Because I'm not going to be working for you anymore," she answered bluntly. Having known him for so long, Ginny was well aware of the fact that subtlety and sugarcoating would be a complete waste of energy. "I was offered another job."

His eyebrows shot up into his hairline. "So you're leaving? Just like that?"

"Not exactly." She set her quill down and stepped in front of the desk, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. "I was offered an administrative position."

Draco narrowed his eyes at her. "An administrative position where?"

Suddenly not wanting to make eye contact with her soon-to-be former boss, Ginny turned towards her desk and began adjusting her stacks of paperwork and organizing her already neat desk. "You know, Draco, why don't we go to lunch or something?" she asked, her back still turned. "My treat, all right?"

His hand grasped her wrist, effectively stopping her from the needless tidying. "Weasley, stop it," he commanded. "You're going to answer my question _now_."

Ginny turned slowly, still biting at her lip nervously. "Well… well Mr. Andrews thought that maybe I would be better suited for working in one of his offices."

"_Andrews_?"

"Yes."

"Andrews is _my supervisor's_ boss!"

She began to fidget. "Yes, I know."

"So does that mean that you're going to be…"

"Your superior," she supplied. "So how about that lunch now?"

"You slippery little weasel!" Draco cried, once again grabbing her wrist before she could turn back around. "What did you do? Did you just flirt with Andrews or did you bloody well shag him, too?"

Ginny wanted to be angry at that comment, but instead she just felt terrible. How could Draco – her boss for the last five years and her friend (sort of) for the last two – accuse her of sleeping her way to the top?

"You know what?" she said, grabbing her handbag and her coat from behind the door. "You can think whatever you want. I knew you'd be upset that I wasn't going to be working for you, but I never would have thought that you'd accuse me of something like that. Not after how close we've been."

"Where are you going?" Draco asked, his voice a little quieter.

Ginny crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm taking a personal half-day. I can't be around you right now."

x

It was around eight o'clock that evening when he found her, sitting alone at the bar inside her favorite pub. He knew she'd be there; she always went when she was upset or when she wanted to celebrate. On that evening, she had reason to do both.

Draco took a seat beside her cautiously, knowing full well that his company would not be welcome after the conversation they'd had earlier in the day.

Ginny glanced at the blond out of the corner of her eye, looking at him disdainfully as she threw back her drink. It was quite obvious that she had no intention of acknowledging him with anything other than glares.

"I talked to Andrews," Draco said by way of ice-breaker. "I told him that you don't have to complete your two remaining weeks. It shouldn't be a problem finding a replacement."

"Right," she answered with an angry slur. "Because I'm so replaceable, right? Is that what you came here to tell me? That I'm bloody _replaceable?_"

"I thought you'd be happy that I'm letting you go, Weasley. I thought you wanted to get out of my office."

She shook her head. "I didn't ask to be moved, Draco! Andrews approached _me_ and said he needed to replace your supervisor because he was moving! I tried to get out of it, but he told me that he wasn't asking! He told me, he said, 'Malfoy is good at what he does, but he's bloody awful to work with.' And then he said, 'You're the only person I've ever heard him say good things about.' I guess he figured if I was good enough to impress _you_, you great big git, that I must be good enough to replace Warner!"

Draco looked down and remained quiet for several minutes. "I didn't mean what I said earlier, you know."

"What? You didn't mean to accuse me of being a whore?" Her voice was like acid.

"I was angry, Ginny."

"Well, it was really smart to insult your new boss, Draco," she answered wryly, a little bit of humor suddenly apparent in her voice.

"Yeah."

"Well, then you better find a way to make it up to me before I move upstairs."

Draco looked at the redhead beside him, the smirk on her face stirring something within him. It was obvious she had something in mind for how he could make things up to her. "What do you suggest, love?"

Her smirk widened as she leaned in closer, her lips grazing against his cheek as lightly as a feather as they travelled further back to brush against his ear. "I guess you'll just have to think of something," she said, "won't you?"

He had a few ideas.


End file.
